


The Taste of Metal in Your Mouth

by Jenni_Snake



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dog Tags, Father-Son Relationship, Ficlet, Gen, Jaeger Pilots, Self-Sacrifice, Tumblr: jaegercon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:11:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenni_Snake/pseuds/Jenni_Snake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck had never really thought about dying. Herc had never really thought about losing him.</p><p>(For the Jaegercon Bingo Card Prompt: Dog tags)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taste of Metal in Your Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> _There is some artistic licence with RAAF facts, and the 'source' quoted at the beginning is made up from information on wikipedia._
> 
>  
> 
> _I am a comment junkie, feel free to be my dealer._

Identification Tags

          Remove the circular tag and place with medical file. Place octagonal tag in mouth of deceased, between teeth and lips, for further processing of the remains.

     -Excerpt from the _Australian Forces Medical Procedures Manual_

 

“What are those, dad?” Chuck asked, pointing to his father’s chest.

Herc looked down and held up the chain.

“They’re dog tags.”

“Like for Max?”

“What?” Herc asked, trying to interpret his son’s question, then smiling. “Oh, no, they’re for the Air Force.”

“Then why do they call them dog tags?”

“Uh, well...” he said, running a hand over Chuck’s hair. “I don’t know.”

“So what are they for?” the boy asked, and Herc wondered if he’d ever run out of questions.

“Well, they’re for...” he began, mulling over how to phrase his answer. “For if someone gets hurt.”

“Like in a fight?” Chuck asked with just a bit too much zeal for Herc’s liking, but he let it slide.

“Uh... no. Worse than that.”

“Like... if someone dies?” Chuck asked in a near-whisper.

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment, then Chuck piped up.

“Dad, can I make some dog tags for Max?”

Herc chuckled.

“Sure you can. Why not?”

\---

Chuck had never really thought about dying, and it surprised him that, instead of raging against the inevitability, he found himself numbed by a portent of calm. He grasped at the chain around his neck and put it between his teeth.

He flipped the switches, feeling the tag bend slightly as he bit down on it like a metallic eucharist.

\---

“Heya, Max, want to go for a walk?” Herc asked him, a sigh piercing his forced enthusiasm. He sat on his son’s bed next to the dog and scratched him behind the ears. Max rolled his head and looked at him, whining.

“What is it, boy?” Herc asked when Max wouldn’t stop nuzzling Chuck’s pillow. He swept his hand underneath and closed it around something. He pulled out a short ball chain with a single dog tag attached to it. A frown pulled down the corners of his mouth, and he ran his hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.


End file.
